All They Have
by equinelover315
Summary: A view into Darry life after his parents' accident. Darry's POV. R&R please!


**Disclaimer: I do not own the Outsiders.**

**A/N: Darry's POV**

"Sodapop Curtis," I hollered. "Would you turn off that TV and come wash these dishes?"

"Sure, Dar," he replied as he backed through the doorway that led from the living room to the kitchen, eyes never leaving the screen.

How dare I ask him to take his eyes off that Mickey Mouse that Two-Bit's always watching?

There's not much I like about running the house. I wonder how mom and dad managed it with all us kids and the rest of the gang. Pony's never concentrating on that school work, Soda's never washing the dishes on his nights, and I'm always waking up to find Two-Bit or Dal asleep on the couch. Cooking ain't my specialty either. Sure, I can do it, but I miss mom's cooking. Guys would come from all over our side of town to get a slice of her chocolate cake and she never let them down. I never can get much done, what with work and all. Someone's got to pay the bills and Soda's job doesn't bring in too much money, but he tries hard to help out. The front door opened and banged as it was slammed into the wall.

"What's up, Two-Bit," Pony's voice echoed in the living room.

"Ponyboy, have you finished that English essay," I called. Of course he hadn't. I don't know why I even bothered to ask.

"I'm gonna work on it now, Darry."

"You better pay attention to that essay when you're writing it. I don't want to see another D on your report card."

"Oh, lay off him Darry," Soda said as he poured soap into the sink of water and began to scrub a plate.

I wish I could. I wish dad was here to do the parenting so that I could just kick back and play big brother. But he isn't. It's not easy trying to be "legal guardian" and "big brother." It's not like I had a choice. How could I sit back and let the state send them off to some boys home? They still threatened to do that sometimes and it always scared me half to death. Two is enough to lose in your lifetime.

I sighed and took the clean plate from Soda, drying it with an old green hand towel. There was a gaping hole in one corner and the edges were frayed from so much use. It was old, just like everything in the house. We didn't have the money to buy new stuff. Pony hadn't got a new pair of shoes since just before the accident and I couldn't help but notice how big my old ones were on him. I mean, damn, it looked like he had clown's feet.

I went to bed when Two-Bit left. Good thing tomorrow was Friday. I was ready for the weekend and a break from all the stress of work.

When I got home from roofing the next day, Pony was standing on the porch smoking a cigarette. The white paint on the siding of the house was chipping and was looking oddly like gray. It made the place look real rundown like. Not to mention that the second step up to the porch was busted right in half. Soda almost broke his ankle stepping on it. Well, actually he kind of stepped right through it.

"I wish you'd quit smoking those," I said to Pony.

He raised one eyebrow and cocked his head like I was speaking in a foreign language. He took another drag and then let the cigarette hang by his side, blowing out a grey puff of smoke. It blended right in with the color of the house.

"It's just a cigarette Darry," he replied. "It ain't gonna hurt me."

"Why do you think they call it a cancer-stick, little buddy?"

"'Cuz that's what I call it," a matter-of-fact voice said from behind me.

I slung my arm around the guy as he walked up next to me. He was wearing a beat-up, brown leather jacket over a white t-shirt. His eyes looked bright even in the dimming light and his blond hair was stiff with grease. People can't understand why we use that stuff, but how are we supposed to call ourselves Greasers if we don't use no grease? He tried to shrug my arm off, but I held tight.

"This, Pony, is why you shouldn't smoke those cancer-sticks. You don't want to grow up and be like this hood," I said, putting on my most serious face and trying to smother a chuckle.

"I don't know. I think he's a pretty tuff guy," Pony shrugged as he winked at Dallas.

"The kid's gotta good sense of what's tuff, Dar," Dally snickered. "I am one _tuff_ hood."

They cracked up. I couldn't suppress my laugh and joined in, rolling my eyes good naturedly. I let go of Dally and punched his arm jokingly.

"Guess what I jacked from some Soc today. Two cases of the most expensive beer in town," Dally boasted. "We are gonna be drunk as shiit tonight."

I shook my head disapprovingly and then gazed up at the sky. I had never been one to dig sunsets, but this one sure was tuff. Not as tuff as Dal of course. The sky was a rusty color and the edges of the cotton-ball-like, white clouds were frosted in a yellowish hue. I was going to be sober that night and I was probably going to be the only one. I had two kid brothers to watch out for. I couldn't be doing that, not when I was all they had.


End file.
